


The $64 Question

by bewize



Category: Clue (1985)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewize/pseuds/bewize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Green - the man behind the mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The $64 Question

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elegant_graffiti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegant_graffiti/gifts).



> My apologies to historians for the abuse of real persons in the making of this fic. I promise, though, nothing I wrote will damage their reputations more than they managed themselves.

_IT MAY HAVE GONE LIKE THIS…_

It was never about the money. That's what made the pseudonym chosen for him so damned ironic. Green. Bread. Cash. Moolah. It was never about that.

"You can't keep paying."

"What choice do I have?" Green (and really, he might as well embrace the identity, it was as much of a lie as so many others he wore) stared at the half-naked man in his bed in irritation.

"So what?"

"So what?" The question catapulted Green to his feet and he paced around the edge of the bed until he hit the wall. "So I'll lose my job. I'll be branded 'subversive.' I'll lose everything…"

"Not me."

Green stopped, turning so that his blue eyes bored into the brown ones of his partner. A thousand words that he couldn't speak ran through his mind, but he shook his head. "Alan."

Alan sighed and moved so that he was kneeling on the bed, reaching out to catch Green's hand and tug him closer. "I know why you're doing this."

Green allowed Alan to pull him close enough that Alan could rest his head on Green's chest. Gently, he reached up to rub his hands over Alan's shoulder. "I'm going to pay."

"I know."

"Then why fight me about it?" Green demanded, pulling away but giving up quickly when Alan tightened his arms.

"Because you shouldn't have to hide; _we_ shouldn't have to hide. You shouldn't have to be afraid or ashamed…"

"Hey," Green leaned back, forcing Alan's head to come up so that they made eye contact again. "I am not ashamed of you, Alan. I'm not."

Something in Alan's eyes softened. "I'll go to the bank tomorrow and transfer money to your account."

"You won't…"

"Yes," Alan smiled again, the smile that promised he was going to get what he wanted, and lifted one hand to press a finger against Green's mouth. "I will. We're in this together."

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE BEGUN LIKE THIS…_

Green backed into the corner, his nose bleeding, his knuckles scraped and raw. "Pederast," the redhead sneered, his lip bleeding even more than Green's nose, and Green spit in his face.

"Careful," Green warned, voice clipped with sarcasm. "Considering that you're the one making allegations, Meyers, you were awfully keen to trap me in the john. What will your friends think?" Green nodded towards door to the bathroom, where half a dozen men watched the fight with fascinated eyes.

"You're a disgrace to the agency." Meyers wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his chin and giving him an oddly clownish look. Green fucking hated clowns.

"I'm not the one who got so drunk at the Willard last night that I had to have someone call me a cab," Green pointed out.

"Too busy getting a blowjob in the men's room?" Meyers sniped and Green lost his temper and stepped forward, driving his fist into the other man's face a second time. He pulled back to hit him again when one of the onlookers pushed in between them.

"Enough," Conyers warned, physically pushing Green back against the wall, his hands hard on Green's shoulders. "You don't want to really hurt him."

Green stared at Conyers in disbelief, more than a little tempted to turn his anger against the intruder, until he saw Conyers' lips quirk up in a small smile. "Well, you might really want to hurt him, but your career won't like it."

"Fine. You're right." Green relaxed, grateful that Conyers didn't move until two of the other guys dragged Meyers out of the bathroom. "Thanks."

"No problem," Conyers shrugged and let go of Green's arms. "Meyers is an ass. I enjoyed watching you punch him. I almost enjoyed it enough to let you keep punching him."

Green smiled, then winced as he realized that his nose might be broken. "Christ, that hurts."

Conyers smiled again. "I'm not surprised, you look like shit."

"Conyers, quit trying to cheer me up."

"Call me Alan," Conyers held out his hand and Green shook it, meeting Alan's eyes in surprise when the other man held on just a moment too long.

"Nice to meet you, Alan."

"You, too."

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE TAKEN A SURPRISING TURN LIKE THIS…_

"The Boss wants to see you," Sofia dropped a pile of folders on Green's desk carelessly, her agitation more about her message than the papers that scattered out from one of the manila envelopes. Automatically, she gathered them together.

"What?" Green tore his eyes away from the file he was reading. More HUAC accusations, only this time they seemed to be on to something. Privately, Green thought that it was more luck than any skill, but he valued his job – and his freedom – enough to keep that thought buried inside. "We're meeting in an hour to discuss the Senator from…"

"No," Sofia leaned over, the smell of her perfume making his eyes water. "Not him, the _Boss_."

Green felt the blood drain out of his face and for a moment, he fought the urge to be sick. "Mr. Hoover?"

"Yes," Sofia hissed. "That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Why would he want to see me?"

Sofia shrugged, but her eyes were worried. "I have no idea. Maybe it's about a case?"

"Yeah," Green shook his head, the stone that had settled in his stomach sinking a bit more. "I'm sure that's it."

"You'd better hurry," Sofia stood back, biting her lip in worry. "Whatever it is, he won't appreciate being kept waiting."

"You're right." Green stood up, pausing long enough to shrug back into his suit jacket. He reached into his top desk drawer and hesitated for a second before he closed his fingers around his pistol and badge. Sliding those into the holster he wore on his belt, he took a deep breath. He'd been waiting for this day since meeting Alan four months ago. He could only hope that Alan hadn't been found out.

The hallways bustled with people as Green made his way towards Hoover's office. Snatches of conversation assaulted his ears, hinting at tales of gangsters, greed and gore, but he couldn't make out any of the words over the pounding of his heart. Hoover's secretary, Helen Gandy, marked his approach with an air of quiet detachment that most Agents never fully mastered. Rumor had it that she could end an Agent's job with a frown. She'd worked for the Old Man for thirty years and knew more about the Bureau than anyone, likely _including_ Hoover himself.

"Ms. Gandy."

"He'll see you now. Go on in."

As far as Green was concerned, that breach of protocol sealed his fate. The Boss never saw anybody without making them wait for at least fifteen minutes. "Thank you, Ms. Gandy."

"You're welcome," she turned back to her work, leaving Green to walk the last few steps of his career with as much dignity as he could muster. Knocking once on the door, Green strode inside, immediately noting that Hoover wasn't alone. Of course, that wasn't a surprise and the cold visage of Clyde Tolson stared at him in disgust. Green forced his breathing to remain steady, but having the Old Man's alter-ego here as well promised nothing but doom.

"Sir."

Hoover didn't even look up, motioning for Green to stand quietly while he read over what appeared to be a letter he held in his hand. The silence grew strained and Green could feel sweat gathering at his neck, but he didn't move. Now that the moment was here, he'd be damned if he'd be the first to break.

Finally, Hoover set down the paper in his hand and tossed Tolson an amused look. "You ever do any undercover work?"

The question came out of left field and Green had to resist the urge to let his mouth hang open. Instead, he swallowed. "Yes, but not in a few years."

"You're working on a HUAC investigation, aren't you?"

"Several, actually, sir." Green shifted slightly.

"House Un-American Committee," Hoover reached up to stroke his beard. "Useful at times, but mostly a bunch of bumbling idiots."

Green had no retort to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Mostly, they just kick up a lot of fuss, make a stir, get folks riled up." Hoover stood up and came around his desk. "But that can be useful, too. Gives us the chance to act while no one is looking."

"Yes, sir." Green choose the safest response he could think of, noting the way that Hoover and Tolson shared another significant look.

"Your Senator case… we've had a break."

"A break, sir?" The sickening relief that washed over Green had nothing to do with the news about his case and everything to do with the fact that his secret was still safe. "What kind of break?"

"A blackmailer," Tolson answered. "It seems that we aren't the only ones who noticed that the Senator's secrets aren't safe."

Tolson's words so closely echoed Green's own thoughts that he felt his unease creep back into his stomach. "Blackmail?"

"Yep," Hoover crossed his arms. "We're pretty sure the Senator isn't the only target, as well. Lots of pillow talk in this city."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Go undercover in the State Department. We'll throw your undercover ID around enough to attract attention and hope that the blackmailer bites."

"And just what," Green asked carefully, "will the blackmailer be blackmailing me for?"

This time the look that Hoover and Tolson shared said too much and Green felt his stomach roil with nausea. "I'm sure you'll think of something," Tolson said after a moment, his steely gray eyes boring into Green's. "It's your job on the line."

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE GONE HORRIBLY WRONG LIKE THIS…_

"Wait a minute, wait, calm down," Alan snapped, angrier than Green could ever remember. "You're going to do what?"

"I took a job at the State Department," Green answered, not meeting Alan's eyes. The lies tasted bitter on his tongue, but he would not - _could not_ \- involve Alan any further than he already had. "I'm leaving the Bureau."

"Why?" Alan demanded, bewildered.

"They know, Alan." Green shook his head. " _They know_."

"Are you fired?"

"No."

"Are you subpoenaed?"

"Not yet," Green answered bitterly. "The Boss made it clear… if I go quietly, I can go. Otherwise," Green shrugged and left the threat unspoken. The untruths rang woodenly in his ears.

"That cock sucking bastard," Alan raged, so suddenly that it caught Green off guard and he gaped in amazement. "Just because he feels the need to parade around with Lela Rogers in public, while keeping Tolson his dirty little secret…"

Green tackled Alan hard enough that he sent them both crashing to the floor. "Are you mad?" he hissed, his mouth barely inches above Alan's. "Don't say that! Never say that!"

"Why not?" Alan challenged. "It's true and you and I both know it. Hoover is as much of a homophile as we are."

Green groaned, dropping his head on his lover's shoulder. "Don't say it aloud. You'll ruin everything." For a long time after he said that, neither of them moved. Their breathing stretched through the silence into the future, then snapped back to reality. Alan shifted gently, pushing Green off him. Standing, Alan didn't look at Green.

"Do what you want. I'll keep your secret."

"Our secret, Alan," Green corrected. "It's _our_ secret, because I don't see you leaving the Bureau."

Instead, Green sat up and watched as Alan left the room. The sound of the door closing in the living room confirmed that Green was alone and he slowly lay back on the floor, his heart breaking.

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE GONE DANGEROUSLY BETTER THAN ANTICIPATED LIKE THIS…_

 **Dear Mr. Green:**

I believe that the included photographs will adequately prepare you for my demands. If you do not leave $500 in locker 267 at Union Station by the 5th of the month, I will provide copies of the photograph to your employer.

Mr. Boddy ****

The photograph stared up at Green from his desk and he stared at it in shock. Two times. He'd seen Alan two times since he'd taken this job. Clearly, it had been one time too many. Numbly, Green flipped through the prints, leaving thumbprints scattered over the glossy finish. Alan, smiling. Alan, laughing. Alan arguing, earnestly trying to convince Green to stay with him. Alan, Alan, Alan.

With a calm that he didn't feel, Green stood up and gathered the photographs. His training kicked in and he blew out a steadying breath. Photographs could be faked, protecting Alan at least.

That much he could do.

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE CHANGED EVERYTHING LIKE THIS…_

"Who is she?" Green asked, dully. Tolson sat across from him, a cup of cooling coffee untouched at his fingertips.

"The most famous Madam in DC." Tolson's lips twisted up cruelly. "Which most men would know."

"I don't utilize the services of prostitutes, Mr. Tolson."

"No, I suppose you have other vices."

"Don't we all?"

Tolson laughed. "I confess, Green. I didn't think you'd have the balls for this. Eddie was right about you. I'll have to let him know you have more spine than I'd given you credit for."

A spurt of anger, hot and controlling, spilled through Green and he set down his own coffee cup with an audible bang. "How was your trip to the beach last week? I understand you and the Boss were there for several days."

Tolson's smile widened and he stood up to leave the diner, tossing the envelope of photographs on the table. "Check out the whore house, Green. But be careful not to blow your cover."

Green's hands shook with rage as Tolson left. After a few minutes, Green picked up the envelope and added it to the others in his briefcase. A Madam. A Murderess. A Senator. A homosexual FBI Agent undercover with the State Department. Who knew how many others.

Green was going to kill Boddy when he finally met the man. That much was a promise.

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE WORKED OUT LIKE THIS…_

"The bastard wants to get us together," Green slapped the letter down on Hoover's desk. The last few months of leading his double life, working both for the State Department and for the Bureau, pretending to lie about his sexual preferences, while outright lying about his partners, made Green reckless and he let his enthusiasm override his natural reticence around the Boss.

Hoover read the letter, the clock in the corner of his office softly ticking towards midnight. "So he does."

"It's time, sir. He's making his move, and that means it's time."

"He didn't wait very long," Hoover frowned and Green straightened, anger threading through his voice.

"I’m sure he has bigger fish to fry than a homosexual State Department employee, sir. With all due respect."

Hoover met his eyes. "Most of us do, Green. Put together your team. I'll take point on this one myself."

Shock made Green gape. "You, sir?"

"Yeah, me. I like to do a bit of field work. It keeps my wits sharp. Besides," Hoover stood up and shrugged into his jacket, one hand reaching for his hat. "You've done a good job, Green. I don't want to risk anyone assuming that these allegations might be true."

Green swallowed, remaining silent while the meaning of those words sank in. "Thank you, sir."

"Hell, son. If this goes well, you'll be my star Agent. I won't have people casting aspersions at you."

"Sir, I…"

"Do yourself a favor, Green," Hoover cut him off. "Don't fuck it up. Now, go home and get ready for action. Whatever bridges you've burned can be rebuilt later."

Green nodded. "I'll try, sir. Thank you."

"Good. Now get out of my office before someone sees you." Hoover left through the main door and Green slid out past the ever-present and ever-watchful eyes of Helen Gandy.

"Ms. Gandy."

"Mr. Green." The secretary stood and gathered her belongings, prompting Green to wait for her so that he could accompany her out. "Do you know why neither I nor the Chief ever married?" she asked suddenly.

"No," Green answered, warily. "I assumed you never met someone you wanted to marry."

"A decent guess. But this job requires a certain amount of sacrifice."

"That doesn't seem fair," he said, bitterly.

"It isn't," she answered matter-of-factly. "But life isn't fair. Nor is it long. If there is someone you want, then seize your chances, your moments, Mr. Green."

"What if I want someone I can't have?"

To his surprise, Helen Gandy, whom had never even smiled to the best of anyone's recollection, laughed. "Isn't that the _real_ $64 question. I am going to give you a second piece of unsolicited advice, Mr. Green. Do whatever you must; say whatever you must; lie if you must. But don't let someone escape without fighting for them."

The use of the pronoun wasn't lost on Green. Lifting a hand, he hailed a cab and held open the door, standing to the side while she slid inside. "Think about what I said, Mr. Green."

"I will, Ms. Gandy. Thank you."

*******************

 _IT MAY HAVE ENDED LIKE THIS…_

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alan stood in the door of his apartment wearing only his underwear and a bleary look on his face. The revolver in his hand pointed at the floor and Green stepped inside, carefully taking hold of Alan's wrist before shoving the other man against the wall and kissing him until they were both breathless.

"I told someone I was coming home to sleep with my wife," Green said when he broke the kiss.

"Do I look like a blushing bride to you?" Alan demanded, the irritation in his tone belied by the fact that he was gripping Green by the jacket in a death grip, not letting him back away.

"You look better than any bride I've ever seen," Green answered honestly. "It's been a hell of a night."

"Working for the State Department?" Alan smiled a bit. "Files getting out of control?"

"About that…" Green started. "I've been lying."

Alan threw his head back and laughed. "For Christ's sake, idiot. I work for the FBI. Do you really think I didn't know that?"

"I'm sorry," Green said softly, his free hand moving to rest against Alan's chest.

Alan sobered. "Now that I didn't know. What are you doing here?"

"I have no idea," Green laughed, a bit hysterically. "But I thought I was going to die tonight; several times, actually. And the thought of dying without telling you that… that I want you… I _need_ you… I just…"

This time Alan kissed him. When Green finally tore away to gasp for breath, Alan whispered into his ear, "We'll figure it out. We're in it together, remember?"

For some reason, Green believed him.


End file.
